


The Conservatory

by Rixxy8173571m3W1p3



Series: The Fluffy Adventures With Your Boyfriend Doofus Rick [7]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: All Time Favorites, Conservatories, Doofus Rick Being Sweet, Doofus Rick is adorable, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Forehead Touching, Greenhouses, Kissing, One of My Favorites, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Phone Calls & Telephones, Plants, Roses, Terrariums, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13288374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3/pseuds/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3
Summary: In this fic, the reader spends a day in Zeta-7s conservatory





	The Conservatory

**Author's Note:**

> I should be working on my other fic, which I will, but I couldn't resist. Hope you'll enjoy

Hopefully you hadn't worked yourself into writer's block again.

You had a deadline to make, and you didn't have time to procrastinate. You needed to finish writing the last couple of chapters before sending it to your editor. Still, you couldn't focus. There was something about the quiet in the house, it was distracting. You glanced at your phone, and thought about calling him.

 Perhaps you should call, you knew he wouldn't mind, and he might be home. Then again, he might be busy, and if you called, you'd interrupt any project he might have been working on. You were looking for a reason, trying hard to think of a friend that you could count on, but there was no one else, no one reliable enough. Time was getting shorter and there was much for you to do, but as the quietness of the room threatened to suffocate, you dialed his number, and waited for him to answer. His cheerful voice made you feel slightly better, and you told him the reason for calling.

You just needed to hear someone's voice, anyone's voice. In your line of work, you tended to isolate yourself, and while you enjoyed your own company, on certain days you felt so very alone you'd thought the silence would eat you alive. It turns out he wasn't at home, but at work on some distant planet you weren't allowed to know the name of. Still, he was happy to hear your voice as well, and shyly told you how much he missed you. Perhaps, he needed to hear someone's voice as well, one that was not his own.

 With all the negativity he dealt with in relation to his job with the council, sometimes he'd portal straight to your place, and hold you in a soul crushing embrace before returning to the hell hole he had just come from. This wasn't one of those times, but you heard it in his exaggerated cheerfulness, as he tried to be strong for your sake. To think, you had called to receive when it was you who should have given.

Your loving friend, your beloved boyfriend, you needed to color his world. You congratulated him for having the honor to be on such a mission, whatever it was, and couldn't wait to have that promised dinner.

 When he dropped the facade, you could hear the exhaustion, and frustration he had tried to hide. Since he was on break, he had time to talk to you about other unrelated matters, and you listened. It was night time where he was, and it made him sleepy and eager for a cup of tea and a good book. Being the cheeky creature you were, you comforted him with gentle words, with a brief description of your mismatched pajamas. And when he chuckled, you felt your heart swell.

 There it was, the Rick you knew. It didn't take you long for you to have him laughing, nor did it take long for his personable nature to unravel you, and make you vulnerable in the way only Zeta-7 knew how to do. Lost in the moment, you began to flirt, and he chuckled nervously, and in all his nervousness to move away from listening ears, he dropped his phone. It was cute how nervous he still got, but you stopped when you heard the Ricks in the background.

 You didn't want to give those mean Rick's another reason to bully him. Nonetheless, you were disappointed that he wasn't home, and you were going to hang up, and return back to work, but he offered to allow you to sit in the conservatory. You admitted that you were afraid you'd hurt one of his plants, but he chuckled, and said that you'd never do such a thing on purpose. So, you accepted.

* * *

 You used the spare key to get in.

Something about Zeta-7s house always made you feel calm, almost in the same way your medication did. The sunflower rug you stood on was as brilliant as ever, the living room, and the house itself seemed to invite you. Near the window stood his easel where an unfinished piece was covered. On the couch, sat an array of plushies, a colorful pillow, and a quilt. Every square of the quilt was a scene, telling a story, but the last one blank. Perhaps it was unfinished.

Everywhere you looked, you saw color, it fed your eyes, enriched your soul, and it struck you with that nostalgic, heart heavy feeling; it felt like home. This feeling which visited from time to time, most particularly when you felt lonely, other times when you felt lost. There was something grounded, almost planted, and somewhere your were infected by its spores. This illness of feeling, of the ever wicked anxious mind, it made you feel too much.

Still, you could move, and you did.

In the kitchen, the turmeric powder was still open, and you figured he must have left right away, for the breakfast dishes sat in the sink, and next to it a empty container of tofu. Hmm, seems like he tried that recipe you had recommended. You set down your laptop, and began to clean up the kitchen for him. If he were at your home, you knew he'd do the same. When you finished cleaning, you headed toward that sacred place, more sacred than his underground lab.

The place he visited almost religiously, which you'd like to think of as his secret garden, a place of secrets, with messages among the thorns, and love painted among their leaves. Emerson knew best when he said ‘The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood.’ Upon entering, the differences in scents and temperature were obvious. The air was thick, and heavy with moisture, laden with nature's earthy perfume. You closed the door behind you, and with caution walked around.

This was Ricks sanctuary, his breathing space. Like his home, great thought and planning had gone into its design. Within those glass walls, freedom, sincerity, long suffering, and love, existed in their stems and branches. Angels trumpet hung high and proud, Bougainvillea had claimed the wall of the furthermost corner, a Tropical beauty sat below the banana plant. Various palm-trees, as well as orchids, birds of paradise, fiddle leaf, elephant ears, sat in painted pots.

You realized that every bit of space was used to its fullest potential, with just enough to walk around, snug, but comfortable. How many happy hours had he spent with these friends? How many hours did he tend to his plant children? How many tears had they seen? Did they know the whispers of his heart?

If only they could say.

Up above, were the air plants in glass globes. They varied in size and in them they held mosses, to flowers, to things you'd never seen. Terrariums held what appeared to be small ecosystems of their own, where micro creatures ran about, grazed, and slept. A few of them experienced their own seasons, others were empty. Shelves were dedicated to house the succulents, their containers ranged from cookie jars, old boots, cracked teapots, and wonderfully glazed bowls.

In an old birdcage was a lone rose bush, whose buds were lapis blue. For a while you admired the depth of its color, and felt your cheeks grow warm from the thought of Zeta-7 presenting one them in bloom. A perfectly blue rose, you once read is elusive like the perfectly black rose. They cannot be achieved naturally so they represent the unattainable or the mysterious, and therefore embody the desire for the unattainable.

Among the plants, you swore one of them were singing. A singing plant? With Rick, was there such thing as impossible? No, it was not.

Somewhere, there was a musical flute-like sound, and you continued forward, until you stopped before a plant with paper-thin rigid leaves which vibrated. You blew on it, and it produced new musical notes. Beside it was a miniature dancing tree, near its a base a type of iridescent fungus. You swore, there were hidden worlds among the vines and bushes which you could not see.

A ladder held pots of bonsai, from a desert rose to cherry blossoms, and other small fruiting plants. The philodendron cascaded along the sides, shading them on its skirt of vines. My, Zeta-7 certainly had a poetic quality, which he expressed in his works. What you did not know was he was such a phytophilous being. How did one fit so much fondness in the confines of human flesh?

In their respective corner were the carnivorous plants. Venus flytraps, and a few other wicked looking flowers you avoided, but you stopped before a tray of mushrooms. You weren't sure if they were the kind you could eat, but your dad used to tell you that it was usually the most colorful that were poisonous. In another tray were ghost like plants, with small flecks of color. Eery things really, like echoes, parasitic perhaps, and another thing you weren't going to touch.

In the center of the conservatory was a type of fountain. In floating baskets were flora and fauna you could only imagine came from alien planets. There were various sizes of water lilies as well as submerged plants, with goldfish and small turtles swimming around their roots. During your tour, you had forgotten the purpose or reason you had visited this place. Perhaps it didn't matter anymore as to why.

As could be expected from Zeta-7, everything was well pruned, the floor was clean, and his work table, and all his tools orderly. On the counter were bowls full of polished stones, various gravels, sea-shells, gemstones, and rocks. Above it were cabinets, where you found other odd bits and ends, as well as jars of seeds, and powders. You didn't dare open any, but you couldn't help but smile when you noticed the glowing pot of herbs. Not too long ago he had told you of his idea to make a bioluminescent plant so he could read in the dark.

You closed the cabinet, and pressed a hand to your chest. In this place, you had developed a new fondness. Warm-hearted, you felt a burst of joy, and renewed appreciation for him. In his house, especially in this room, you could feel him, and his nurturing care. Here, his invisible qualities were prominent, and you saw the fruitage of his work.

Away from the fast paced life you had known, here, you were disconnected, reborn in natural beauty. You felt his comforting presence, and almost heard his sing song voice call for you to be near him. Slowly, you were learning his secrets, and this was one of his better ones. It didn't matter what you had come here to do, but you were relaxed, and on the couch nearest to the herbs, you laid down, and fell asleep. In your dreams, you stood amongst your perfect home, and it was very much like Ricks, and slightly a bit like yours.

Hours later, you were woken by the softness of a warm kiss upon your forehead. You were met by his winning smile, and towering figure.

You sat up, and asked how long you had been asleep. Shaded by the color and sounds of evening, he pressed a code onto his phone and fairy lights lit up the corner where you two were. You had been there asleep all day, and hadn't gotten any work done.

Oh well, that meant you had the rest of the night to figure it out. You patted the space beside you, and invited him to sit. Rick chuckled, and told you how he had come home to find you asleep, much to your embarrassment. He dared not to disturb you until he had showered, dressed, and cooked enough for two. Today he wasn't wearing the usual blue sweater, and lab coat, but a blue dress shirt with a few of the buttons undone, and a pair of blue jeans.

Damn, when you gazed into his electric, forget-me-not blues, your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about him. Nothing so readily obvious, but nothing so insignificant. His penetrating stare searched you, curious in what it was you weren't saying. You poked his cheek to ease the tension that had built up in your chest.

You did this a few times, and good-naturedly, he chuckled, and asked if you were having fun. Damn, it wasn't helping, he was still handsome. Lips bitten, he studied you. What are you thinking, you asked.

With a blush, he leaned forward, until your foreheads touched. Sometimes, he didn't have the words to say what he meant, but that was okay, you didn't need them. With his face hidden in your hair, you giggled with he brushed that ticklish spot behind your ear. You pulled him close, until neither of you knew where you started or ended. Unlike other times, he did not try to pull away.

You bathed in his warmth, and sighed happily as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. He smelled like fresh laundry and cooking, his chin soft from a fresh shave. You blinked and all at once, you lost contact with the world around you, and he was all you, and you were all him. His fingers were in your hair, and you pressed kisses on the fresh cut on his left cheek. And when he captured your mouth in a firm, but gentle kiss, you felt him shaking.

There were days when he was so eager, that it scared him, and he didn't know what to do with himself. Due to his lack of experience, as well as self confidence issues, he'd hold back from showing the full extent of his affection. Oh, the things he could do if he were more confident. Nice and slow you whispered, and in time he calmed a little, until you had a slow, and sweet rhythm of lingering kisses. When he broke this rhythm by apologizing for his inadequacy, you held him to your heart, and told him you weren't going anywhere.

You loved this man more dearly than you had ever loved anything. He blushed like mad, too embarrassed to get an intelligible word out, but you thought nothing of it. Behind his ear, you found a bruise about the size of your thumb, and you realized you had probably held on too hard while you two were kissing. Now that you thought of it, you would have to be more careful next time. There were days when you forgot how old he was.

You knew that there would be struggles with dating someone like Zeta-7, someone so much older than yourself, someone who had been scorned and lonely, and how it was going to bring its fair share of trials and tribulations, but to you didn't matter, because he was home.Surrounded by his plants, in this environment, in this sanctuary, you were home.

You asked what he had made for dinner, and his laughing eyes, nervous lip bite, and flushed face almost made you forget what you had just asked. You were good, and listened, even if all you wanted to do was steal his breath away. In this world, his world, Ricks behavior caught you off guard at times, but by allowing you into his world, you saw its values, and it's truths. This sweet creature wanted you,

You traced his smile lines, committing them to memory.

He leaned into your touch, and damn he hummed. Please stay for dinner, he whispered. With you, you asked. As though he were peering into your soul, and reading your thoughts, he leaned forward, lips parted, his breath feathering your face. Just before your lips touched, he poked your cheek.

You pouted, which made him laugh, a full on belly laugh. This happy noise filled up the room, and you swore you heard something singing, perhaps it was a tree. The little tease, perhaps the Rick in him couldn't resist. Oh well, there would be many other opportunities for you to return the favor, for now you'd accepted his outstretched hand. Blissful, he raised it to his mouth and kissed it.

Perhaps, he was becoming a little more confident, but all you knew was that it suited him. If nurtured, and cared for, with the right amount of love, in the right environment, what could Zeta-7 not do?


End file.
